


Letter's End

by lucidescuella



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Young!ARTHUR
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucidescuella/pseuds/lucidescuella
Summary: “Before, I was a firm believer that happiness did not find you itself, but you would have to face the world and try to search for your own wherever you were. But then you found me in town that day, Arthur Morgan, and nothing had ever changed my mind faster than that moment.”Happiness is a lost concept to Florence Elizabeth. She was confident she would never gain it due to her life, but Arthur Morgan comes along and proves her wrong.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Original Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	Letter's End

Florence did not believe in happy endings. Truthfully, she had never witnessed one in her life span on this planet, especially with her wealth. She knew she would never have a chance at the beloved happy endings her sister rambled on and on about. And though a small part of her longed to feel that bliss that most people dreamed to achieve, realistically, it just was not plausible for her. 

Her poor, naive sister. Just at fourteen, she was already planning her wedding and what her children’s names would be. Eleanor was the definition of a dreamer, often busy with her chin resting on her palm, probably thinking of something odd like what color her future house would be or what kind of flowers she would plant in the front garden. She wants a life of domesticity, and when asked by her father if she planned on this man of hers to be rich, she would laugh loudly and let out a “Well, yes! Of course!” She failed to realize that men with money don’t desire the same fantasies as she did. 

Florence was not passionate about much. She was taught that men did not favor that, so she stuck to her studies and piano. Goodness, she did love that piano, though. A gift from her grandmother, a strong, dark wood with flower designs engraved into the sides. “That’s how you know it’s for you,” she was told. She used to play until her fingers cramped up, but now she barely has the time, yet her room is still filled with music sheets scattered messily. 

Florence’s mother was always very open with their lifestyle to her children. She was raised poor with her aunt, an parentless child at the youthful age of seven due to a group of unknown men barging in their family’s cabin and robbing the place, killing her parents mercilessly when they tried to fight back. Her aunt forced her to marry rich, so that her future children could have a generous life, and maybe from a place of selfishness, but she convinced her enough, at the cost of her niece’s happiness. Though Florence was beyond grateful for her sacrifice, and though her mother always expressed to her children that she was thankful she made that choice for them, Florence could see that twinge hidden deep in her eyes every time her husband brushed her off or raised his voice. 

But what did she have to truly complain about? A platter of food on the table each day, a warm bed to sleep in, new clothes whenever she wanted, any book in the world? She felt blessed- she was blessed. So, why didn’t she feel happy? 

\- January 23, 1886 7:12 A.M. - 

“Florence Elizabeth! Wake up or you’ll miss breakfast! Something tells me your parents won’t be too happy about that.”

Pulled out of a pleasant dream too soon. Florence groaned as light filled her bedroom, rolling onto her stomach to bury her face into her pillow. And when she thought that it couldn’t get any worse, she felt hands grip her shoulders to shake her awake. Suddenly, she bounced up and glared at the woman, “I’m up! Goodness, Diane.”

Diane was one of the family’s maids. She’s been around since before Florence was born, and she feels like part of the family more than the maid. Florence always thought she was beautiful, with deep skin and dark hair always pulled back into a neat bun. Diane was the epitome of grace and kindness, but she knew how to stand up for herself, which is what Florence always admired about her. 

“You need to get ready to go downstairs. Your father is doing the leg shaking thing he always does when he’s angry, so I’d make it fast.” Diane said, pulling out a simple shirt and skirt out of the wardrobe. 

Not the leg shaking thing, Florence groaned internally. She was sure to get a lecture, now that she is almost twenty minutes late to breakfast. She rushed getting dressed and pulling her tangled, brunette hair out of the braids she slept in, combing her fingers through haphazardly. Putting a pair of shoes on, she scurried downstairs to meet the impatient looks of her parents and the smirk on Eleanor’s face that she was trying to hide behind her hand. There was a moment of silence, then her father spoke up, “You’re late.”

“I overslept, father. I’m sorry.”

He peered at her with squinted eyes and finally returned to eating, “Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, father.” 

Florence slowly made her way to the table, almost feeling like a walk of shame as she pulled the chair away from and sat down in front of an empty placemat. Her mother matched her gaze and caught her attention, “I wasn’t sure if you were coming, so I had Diane hold off on bringing your food out. Diane, would you please get her plate?”

After Diane nodded and left to go grab the food, her father abruptly set his fork on the table, “Florence. You know Mr. Coleman? He and his family are coming up here to visit in a few days. His wife and his son, Thomas. I think you two would get along, so you will be showing him around the property.”

She knew this day was coming soon. She was of marriage age and she knew how much fathers loved to send their daughters off in their life, so she expected it. What she didn’t expect was how he wanted to marry her off to Thomas Coleman. The kid was dumb as rocks and a total jerk, yet somehow he managed to a way to go from girl to girl with no shame at all. Maybe all the money his family acquires, but still, not a great impression on the Elizabeth family name, but hey, whatever gets Florence out of the house, right?

“Thomas Coleman? You really feel that we would get along?”

God, someone please get her out of this. 

But it was no use, she knew she had to do this, “Yes, Florence. Do you think there’s a reason why you wouldn’t get along?”

Though maybe her father had a smidgen of mercy in him. He was raised to believe traditional ways, but doesn’t having children change your views sometimes? Can’t he see that she would rather marry the nearest tree than that vile boy? “I just feel that maybe-” She saw that look in his eyes. That challenging look that made her feel like a small child again who needs to hide from the monster under her bed. 

“I suppose not, father. I’ll show him around.”

Diane stepped into the dining room again and placed a plate filled with toast and eggs in front of Florence, placing a cloth napkin on her lap. Her mother looked at her in sympathy, but she turned away to scold Eleanor for falling asleep with her head on her palm. 

She did not believe in happy endings.


End file.
